Take Good Care Of Me
by flashpenguin
Summary: Steve falls ill. House does something out of character. Cameron is summoned to investigate.
1. Chapter 1

_**I don't own House (altho I wish I did!). All characters and their actions are purely the result of an over active imagination. This story was inspired by Jonathan Butler's song"Take Good Care of Me" from his self titled 1986 album.**_

The alarm always went off too early. Or at least that was House's opinion as he threw the offending object to the floor. He should have put the clock out of its misery a long time ago, but the damn thing kept bouncing back and begging for more. He sighed. Well, with any luck, there was always tomorrow.

Grabbing the cane, he made his way to the bathroom. A quick shower seemed to help erase the remaining effects of sleep . Dressing quickly, he went to the kitchen. Opening the cupboard, he took down a box of croutons. Shaking a few into his other hand, he replaced the box and limped into the living room.

"Steve. Time for breakfast." Unusual silence greeted him. "Come out kid. Rise and shine." Leaning over, he shook the cage. A small head slowly popped out.

"Hey. Good morning." House opened the cage door and deposited the crutons in Steve's dish. Steve twitched his nose in response.

"Hey, you want to come out for a minute?" Steve just looked up with unblinking, black eyes. Closing the door, House stepped back. Looking at his watch, he decided that maybe if he arrived early to work, Cuddy would cut him some slack and let him leave early.

Fat chance, he chided himself, but it couldn't hurt.

Gathering his helmet, wallet, and keys, House locked the door as he left.

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

House beat everyone to the clinic. In fact, he had already seen four patients by the time Cuddy walked thru the doors.

Immediately, Cuddy noticed that something was up. Quickly conferring with a resident, she learned that House had arrived at seven thirty and began seeing patients shortly after. Determined not to break his stride, Cuddy greeted the ducklings and set about assigning duties. Chase wasn't too happy about having to do a day in gynecology, and Cameron agreed to finish her reports. Wilson was short handed, so Foreman would shadow in Oncology.

With everything in order, Cuddy decided to catch up on donors and fund raisers. Since Vogler's departure, the hospital wasn't in financial dire straits, but it sure wasn't rolling in the dough.

By noon, having not had House storming in once, curiosity got the better of Cuddy. Between phone calls, she summoned Cameron to the office.

A knock on the door caused her to look up. Cameron's head poked around the frame.

"Come on in." Cuddy stood up to greet her visitor.

Cameron approached the desk. "You wanted to see me?"

"There is a problem with House."

Cameron blinked. "What's wrong with House?"

"I don't know. He arrived early and has been seeing patients continually without a break."

Cameron shook her head. "I don't get it; how is that so bad? You want him to do clinic hours."

"There's not been one complaint all day."

Cameron's mouth dropped open. "Are you sure it's House? Maybe he paid someone to take his hours."

Cuddy chuckled. "Know any other doctor who owns an orange 2005 Honda motorcycle with a cane holder?"

Cameron blinked. "What do you want me to do?"

Cuddy sat down in her chair. "Find out what's wrong with my doctor." Just then the phone rang. Cameron took that as her cue to leave.

Closing the door behind her, Cameron leaned against the wood for a moment to gather her thoughts and feelings. Obviously, House was up to something. The man hated clinic duty with a passion. He even bribed her a time or two or ten... Yet, something was wrong.

Knowing that he wouldn't just open up to her if asked, she decided on bribery to get her answers.

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Ten minutes later, Cameron knocked on Exam Room 4 while trying to balance two drinks and a bag containing a fresh made Reuben minus the pickles.

"Come in," a gruff voice called from the other side.

Cameron used her hip to push down the lever. The door swung open and she stepped inside. House looked up from his furious writing to glance at his employee.

"Here." She thrust the styrofoam cup toward him. Placing his pencil behind his ear, House took the container. "It's a Coke. Thought you might need the sugar to keep your energy up." Cameron placed the bag on the exam table. "Figured you might be hungry, too."

House raised his eyebrow in mock surprise. "Is this your doing or Cuddy's suggestion?"

"Why would Cuddy care if you missed lunch as long as your clinic hours were done?"

House took a long sip of the drink. "Ah, that hit the spot." He set the drink down. "Good point. So why did she send you?"

Cameron paused.

"Don't ever play poker, you don't have the face." Opening the bag, House took out the sandwich. "Why are you here?" Unwrapping the top half, House took a huge bite. "Want some?" Cameron shook her head. "Hmmm, your loss."

"Cuddy is worried about you."

House scooped up some of the kraut from the wrapper and popped it in his mouth. "Cuddy is worried about getting the right sperm donor. Cuddy is worried about money donations; she doesn't worry about me."

Cameron waved at the air in frustration. "Okay, she was concerned. What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing. If she was really concerned, why didn't she come down here? Why send you?"

"Why not ask her? You're between patients, call her and tell her."

"Can't. I'm busy eating lunch."

"Lunch I bought."

"I didn't ask you to. You thought you could bribe me into confiding in you so you could run to Cuddy. You could have come right out and asked me."

Cameron raised her eyebrow in mock surprise. "And you would have told me?"

"After you ran down to the cafeteria and bought me lunch." House took another bite. "At least you saved a trip."

Cameron crossed her arms across her breasts. "Are you going to tell me, or am I going to ask Cuddy to set you up with a psych consult?"

"Oooo, happy drugs and delving into my deepest darkest secrets. Wonder which deep dark secret they would uncover first? Why I obsess with Cuddy's breasts, or the hours I spend trying to figure out what colour panties she's wearing on a particular day."

"Maybe they'll find out why you spend all your free time with Wilson, and why you are an ass."

"I'm sensing jealousy here." House took another bite and chewed thoughtfully. "Tell you what, the next time you get kicked out of your apartment, you can have the spare couch."

Cameron rolled her eyes. "Comforting. How did we get from you doing clinic hours, to Cuddy's underwear, to your couch?"

"Natural progression." He finished the sandwich. "You brought it up, but the offer is still open." House balled up his garbage and threw it in the waste basket.

The silence grew. "Alright, if you must know, I need to leave early because I think Steve is ill."

"Steve?" Cameron blinked in surprise.

"My rat."

"I know who Steve is. What makes you think he's ill?"

"He didn't want his crutons this morning, and he wasn't on his wheel." House ran a hand over his eyes. "Just tell Cuddy I need to leave early." Grabbing a file, House threw a glance at Cameron. "I have to get back to work, as do you."

Cameron grabbed her drink and left the room. How was she going to explain this to Cuddy?

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Three oclock arrived and House, having seen his last patient, filed his patient folders and left for the day.

He didn't break any speed limits going home, but he did set a personal best. Opening the door, he paused to listen. The squeeking wheel was like music to his ears.

Laying down his backpack and helmet, House went directly to the kitchen and grabbed a beer. Opening the bottle, he took a long swallow. It had been a difficult day, and though he had no intention of pulling a Groundhog Day, he knew that as long as Steve yo-yo'd, he would do whatever was necessary.

Limping into the living room, House turned on the stereo. The sounds of Ray Charles filled the room. Collapsing on the couch, he propped his feet on the coffee table and watched Steve.

He must have dozed because one moment he was listening to Brother Ray croon "Drown In My Own Tears", and the next the phone was ringing. He had hoped to let the machine answer until he heard Wilson's voice.

"House! I know you're there. What is going on? Are you feeling okay? Is Steve alright?"

House clicked on the phone. "Cameron has a big mouth." He stretched and yawned. Glancing at Steve, he noticed the rat was asleep; buried in his toilet paper cubby hole.

"Hey, she bought you lunch to bribe info out, maybe you should have bought her lunch to keep her quiet."

"And the next time you need a place to sleep, I'll make sure there's a pillow on the stoop." He popped a vicodin and took a swallow of beer.

"Hey, I like Steve. He's kinda cute, in a rodent kind of way. Scruffy, but grows on you. Kinda like his owner."

"You're not getting the pillow. In fact, you're not getting the stoop. I'm hanging up."

"Every time I think I find the real you, something changes just a little." Wilson chuckled. "You definitely caught Cuddy off guard."

"That why she sent Cameron down to spy on me?"

"She was concerned. We all were. Foreman and Chase bet that you paid someone to take your clinic duties and was hiding off in a closet somewhere with your tv."

"How much did you lose?"

"Cameron collected a hundred and fifty bucks."

House snorted. "My rat needed me."

"Is there anything you need? Want me to come over?"

"No, and no. I saw people non stop for eight hours. I want to be alone." House paused. "If I took a biopsy from Steve, would you test it?"

"Sure. But don't worry, Steve is resilient. See you tomorrow."

"Yeah." House hung up and wondered how in the world he was going to get a skin biopsy off of a rat.

Ray Charles finished and the CD changer moved into another selection. The melodic sounds of Robert Lamm's _"Subtlety & Passion"_ enveloped the room. House limped into the kitchen for a second time that evening. Overwhelmed by hunger, he threw together a quick sandwich, which he devoured almost immediately, and grabbed another beer.

The phone rang again. "What ever happened to good old fashion peace and quiet?" Letting out a deep breath, he grabbed the phone.

"Yes, Cameron."

A long pause greeted him. "Um, hello. I-uh-well..."

"Steve is doing better. Congratulations on your win. By the way, I have caller ID. Helps me screen out the crank calls wanting my body from those wanting my mind."

"I still should consult with Cuddy about that psych eval. Minus the happy pills." Deep breath "How did you know about my win?"

"Wilson just called. Did you place the bet before or after you spied on me?"

"I didn't spy," Cameron sputtered. "Cuddy asked me to check on you."

"Spying, checking on one, it's all the same so don't bother pulling out your thesaurus. Hundred fifty. You can buy me lunch again tomorrow."

"Thought I might spend it on something to cheer up the little patient."

"He's just recovering and you want to fill him up with junk food?"

"And a crouton is healthy? I took nutrition, but I missed where croutons are a major food group." A pause. "I was going to get Steve some Reese's Pieces."

"Candy!"

"Peanut butter. Healthy. My brother fed those to his rat and it lived to be ten. Peanut butter is full of protein, complex carbs, and it releases serotonin." You should try some.

"Croutons are bread."

"High in fat and calories."

"For heaven's sake! he runs on a wheel all day; getting fat is not one of his worries," House snapped.

Silence followed. The quiet dragged out for a long torturous moment. For a second House believed Cameron had hung up, until he heard her take in a shaky breath.

"Tell me you're not crying."

"No, I was getting a swallow of wine while trying to contemplate how to figure you out."

"What's to figure? I'm me. I have never changed, and I don't plan to."

"Yet, you are nursing a rat. And you took clinic hours to leave early."

"But I snapped when you called crutons junk food. See, I'm back to my normal self."

"All but normal fits in that statement. I just find it almost human that you care for something other than yourself. Even if it is a rat from..." Cameron trailed off unable to finish.

"I suppose I'm to fill in the blank with 'Stacy'?"

"I was thinking 'her' in the pronoun."

"I see."

Again silence.

"House, look, I'm sorry. You've had a long day. Go get some rest. Steve may need you tomorrow, too. I'll see you. By the way, I made the bet before Cuddy called me. I have faith in you. Good night."

Before House could respond, Cameron disconnected.

He leaned back on the cushions and rubbed a hand over his face. What the hell was that all about?

Finishing the beer, he grabbed his cane and went to the bathroom.

Popping a vicodin, he got ready for bed.

House was asleep before his head touched the pillow.


	2. Chapter 2

_I do not own House. Nor am I doing this for profit. All characters and actions are figments of my imagination. All diseases mentioned are fact. **Sendai, Ectromelia, and Sialodacryoadenitis** are extremely fatal to rats. All musicians mentioned are real, as are their mentioned work. _

To say that the following morning in the clinic really pushed House to his limit, would have been an understatement. If it wasn't for Steve, House would have booked by ten.

His first patient started the ball rolling with an infected, ingrown toenail and a case of severe athlete's foot, requiring a consult to podiatry.

And the ball continued down hill at full speed.

Next, an 18 year old who swore the high level of hormone in her birth control pills was causing her nausea and vomiting; not pregnancy because she and her boyfriend hadn't done "it" in over 8 weeks.

But the grandmother needing a script for viagra because her eighty one year old husband had no interest in sex, really topped off the morning. Further explanation went on to reveal that they hadn't slept together since their last child 35 years earlier. It was all House could do not to yell that perhaps it was her high-pitched, nails on a chalkboard voice that could be turning him off. But he wrote the script and threw in another for earplugs.

House lost count of the number of vicodin he had popped by noon, and was just contemplating swallowing the whole bottle, when a knock on the door distracted him.

"Good afternoon," Cameron greeted, handing House two bags and a drink. On the counter she placed another white paper bag with the name **"Steve"** on the side.

House sat on the corner of the table. "Everything but _good_ applied to that greeting. What brings you here? Trying to get on my good side?"

Cameron's eyes widened. "Good side? You have one? Now that would be a journey worth taking if I knew a good side actually waited for me at the end."

Not sure how to respond, House glanced at the bags. "Why are you here?"

"I figured you wouldn't leave to get lunch." She took a sip of her own drink. "Before you thank me, I'm doing this more for your patients than for you."

House reached in and took out his sandwich. Peeking in the second bag revealed fries. He found it intriguing that Cameron had covered all the bases. "And the bag on the counter?"

"For Steve. I thought about what you said, so if you look you'll find Reese's Pieces mixed in with one hundred percent organic trail-mix."

Caught off guard, House quickly swallowed his bite. "I may have to taste test it to make sure you didn't try to slip him some of your niceness."

"Wouldn't matter; you're immune to it anyway."

"Good come back. You're starting to sound like me. Get a consult to psych."

"So they can find out why I'm obsessing over a misanthropic ass who pretends to be a hard ass, or why I'm buying trail-mix for a rat?"

House looked her up and down and smirked. "Nope. I want to find out what type of underwear you prefer."

Cameron looked at him with disgust."I was right; you are a pig. Enjoy your lunch." She made an exit out the door that impressed even House.

Grinning at her departing figure, he finished off his Reuben and fries. Washing his hands quickly, he grabbed the bag off the table and put it in his back pack.

Ironically when he took a sip of his ice cold coke, he found it to be warmer than the room after Cameron's departure. Shaking off that thought, he decided to just tackle the last two hours before it tackled him first.

**--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

The drive home had him convinced that there was not enough scotch and vicodin in the world to numb the throbbing in his brain.

Upon entering the apartment, he listened for the familiar squeak. Nothing. A wave of fear gripped him. He moved quickly to the cage, and shook it gently, but firmly.

"Steve!"

A little head poked up out of the toilet paper tube. House let out a shaky breath. "Don't you scare me like that again." Reaching into the backpack, he took out the bag of trail-mix. He scooped out some and put it in the dish.

Steve walked over and sniffed the treat. Grabbing a Reese's Piece, he practically inhaled it and began on a second. Pausing, he looked thoughtfully up at House.

"Don't thank me." Satisfied that all was well, House went to pour himself a double scotch. No sooner had he downed that then the phone rang.

He glanced at the ID display. "Yes, Cameron."

"You having caller ID is a little weird."

"What would you call buying trail-mix for a rat?"

"Touche." Pause. "How is Steve?"

"Determined to stop my heart before the vicodin can ruin my liver. He seems to like the mix."

"Anything I can do to help?"

"Not really."

She knew when to take her cue. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Cameron!" House closed his eyes. _This is so humiliating_. "Are you busy? I need you to come over."

"What for?"

"I need to get a skin biopsy so Wilson can test it for anything that might be affecting Steve." Silence.

"I'll be there in a half hour." Cameron disconnected the line.

House set the phone on the charger and poured himself another shot. He didn't have a clue as to what just happened, but he had a feeling that the evening was going to beat his day in a heart beat.

Another double, and two vicodin later, a knock on the door brought House out of his reverie. He had been listening to the smooth jazz sounds of Jonathan Butler and trying to chalk the whole day up to just being a bad dream.

The knocking persisted. Grabbing his cane, House hauled himself off the couch and limped to the front door. Swinging the door open revealed Cameron. For a moment, neither spoke.

Gesturing with his free hand, he waved her to come in. He noticed that she carried a small medical bag.

"Where's the patient?"

"Over on the coffee table."

Cameron breezed by House. A light, musky scent assaulted his nose. "Are you wearing perfume?" He closed the door.

"Yes. Got a problem with that?" Cameron opened the bag and pulled out a pair of latex gloves.

"Actually, no." House sniffed the air appreciatively. "What kind is it?"

"Celine Dion." She put the gloves on and sized up her patient.

"The _singer_?"

"You say it like it's a bad thing." She opened the cage. Reaching in with her right hand, she placed it behind Steve's back. Right below his neck, she grasped him around the rib cage and lifted upward. Using her left hand, Cameron extended Steve's hind legs between her thumb, index, and third finger.

Momentarily taken aback by her actions, House shouted, "What the hell are you doing to my rat?"

Unfazed, Cameron shrugged. "Uh, holding him so you can get a biopsy. What did you think was going to happen, that he was going to willingly lie down and let you start cutting?"

"You're hurting him!"

"No, I'm not. Get the bag and take a sample before he poops on me." Cameron spoke soothing words to Steve as House took the sample. Sealing the small piece of skin in a covered petri dish, House placed the container back in the bag. "Hey, get a stool sample, too."

"You're kidding me?" But House did as he was told. Securing the excrement in a Bio-Hazard bag, he placed it next to the petri dish.

"I'm the immunologist here. If we are going to test for viral and bacterial, then we should test for internal parasitic infections. Although, I'm leaning toward Chronic Murine Pneumonia. I want to rule out Sialodacryoadenitis." Cameron peered into Steve's eyes. "He doesn't seem to have swelling around his eyes. Has he been wheezing, sneezing, or rubbing his eyes?"

"Not that I am aware of; he's been pretty lethargic, though." House had to concentrate on concentrating because that perfume was beginning to affect him in more than one way. He decided then and there to stop washing his vicodin down with scotch.

"Well that's a good sign. So we can rule that one out." Cameron turned Steve over and checked his legs and face. "No swelling. Well, that rules out Ectromelia." Bringing Steve to her ear, she listened closely. "Good breathing. Fur is still soft. And you're pretty stout, so that pretty much rules out the Sendai Virus."

House just gaped. "When did you become a veterinarian?"

"I told you my brother raised rats and mice. Mice mostly for his snakes, but the rats were kinda family. Anyone can keep a mouse, but you need an extensive knowledge to raise and breed rats. They may be pretty resilient, but they are just as susceptible to virus and bacterial infections like anyone else. Except, and not to alarm you, Sendai, Ectromelia, and Sialodacryoadenitis, are three of the nastiest diseases." Cameron touched Steve on the nose and placed him back in the cage.

Taking off the gloves, she secured the latch and stepped back. "Mind if I wash up?" Not waiting for an answer, Cameron walked toward the kitchen. House stood speechless, but determined to take control of the situation, although he was unable to gather his thoughts. _Damn that vicodin._

"Um, considering what you just touched, you might want to wash up, too," Cameron called from the other room. House joined her at the sink. For a moment they seemed to bask in the sweet sound of Jonathan Butler's _**Barenese**_.

Drying her hands, Cameron handed House a couple paper towels. "Rat diseases got me curious about death and cures, and it's all tied into the immune system, so it wasn't a hard transition from playing with an electron microscope to finding cures in real life."

"Well, that explains everything." House threw the paper towels in the wastebasket. Cameron did the same.

"Explains what?"Cameron could feel the heat rush into her cheeks.

"Why you care so much."

"Are you comparing patients to rats?"

"Is there a difference? I think you see them as pets needing to be taken care of."

_What does that make you?_ Cameron thought to herself. "So what was that comment on Celine Dion?"

"Changing the subject?"

"I know your feelings on patients. Have you actually listened to Celine Dion?"

"I stopped being interested after the one hundredth listen to 'My Heart Will Go On'. Not sure, but I think there could be a link between my vicodin use and that song."

Cameron's eyes flashed with wickedness. She began singing:

**_"Once more you open the door, and you're here in my heart, and my heart will go on and on."_**

House covered his ears. "Stop!"

Cameron let out a small laugh. "Come on, you're being a big baby."

"Leave!"

"This is how you treat me for helping you with your rat?"

"No, this is how _you_ repay _me_ for letting you help me with my rat."

"That is too twisted for even you House." She looked at him and chuckled. "Come on, grab your jacket."

House stepped back. "Woah! Woah! Woah! Wait a minute. I'm not going anywhere with you. I don't even like you."

Cameron cocked her head to the side and stared at him. "I'm very well aware of your feelings, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm hungry and you have nothing in your fridge."

"You want me to feed you?"

"My treat. I won a hundred and fifty bucks, remember?"

"I've been drinking and took some vicodin. I can't drive."

"Well, I'm perfectly sober, and I didn't just walk over here; I have a car. Get your jacket, or I will finish singing that song."

"So, we're going out." It wasn't a question. House knew he had lost control of the situation.

"Yeah."

"Like a date?"

"Yeah, except for the date part." Grabbing the jacket off the chair, Cameron tossed it toward him. "Got your keys?"

"This is a mistake."

"Yeah, yeah."

"You better not have Celine Dion on the radio." Cameron laughed out loud. House followed her out the door.


	3. Chapter 3

_**I do not own House. All characters are figments of my imagination. Feel free to leave a review.  
**_

"You didn't have to walk me to the door."

"Someone needs to keep you safe. What if a strange woman kidnaps you? Then Foreman is in charge, and I don't think he has what it takes to go up against Cuddy."

House turned to give her a hard stare. "I'm hurt." He slapped a hand over his heart. "So this is more for your interests than for mine?"

Cameron cocked her head to the side and gave him a sly smile. "Basically."

"Who's going to protect you?"

"I can take care of myself. Besides, I need to check on Steve."

"I knew you had a secret agenda." House reached into his pocket to retrieve the keys. Unlocking the door, he allowed Cameron in first. His eyes followed her to the cage as he reflected on the evening.

Still waters may run deep, but Allison Cameron was an abyss. She not only found the best pub in town, with the best steaks, and a killer jazz band, but she had an extensive knowledge of music. How could he have worked beside her for three years and not known that she adored George Benson and Charlie Parker?

House closed the door and headed toward the kitchen. He didn't want the night to end.

"Want some coffee?" he called out. Cameron stopped tapping on the cage.

"Come again?"

"Coffee. Want some?" House rummaged thru the cupboard. Where the hell had Wilson put the coffee? A couple of items fell to the ground as he tried to reach where he thought it would be. A can of soup landed on his foot, and a word was out before he could help it.

Cameron was beside him in an instant. Straightening up from retrieving the can, House noticed her blush.

"Dr. Cameron, I think you're turning red. Don't tell me my curse shocked you."

Taking the can from him, Cameron put it on the shelf and closed the cupboard. "I never heard someone use that word to describe pain. But you are unique." Her eyes locked with his. "In many ways."

House gripped her upper arm. "Which ways?" His voice was low.

Cameron's breath caught painfully in her chest as she tried to gather her thoughts. Silence was the only sound for the longest moment.

"I think I need to go."

House's hand dropped to his side. Quietly, Cameron walked back to the living room and gathered her medical bag. Checking for her keys, she took one last glance at Steve.

"I'll be in early to run these tests. With any luck we'll find out what's wrong and have you back up to par so Dad will quit worrying."

House let out a big snort. "**DAD**?! The rat's screwed up enough having me for an owner, and you want to label me as a parental figure? Thanks."

Cameron moved to the door. "I meant that as an honour." She turned the handle. "See you tomorrow." She crossed the threshold.

"Cameron. Wait."

She turned around and looked at him.

"Tomorrow, lunch is on me."

"See you later House." Cameron gave a small smile and closed the door.

House could not have known how close Cameron had come to hyperventilating before she found the strength to walk to the car. Nor did he see the way her hand shook as she inserted the key and started the engine.

But Cameron didn't see the lone figure watching from behind the blinds as she drove off.

The same lone figure who continued to watch long after her car disappeared into the darkness.

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

House ducked out of clinic duty the next day. There would be hell to pay, but since his vicodin prescription was running low and wasn't due a refill for another week, he figured dealing with Cuddy was safer. Besides, how could he deal with patients when he didn't know what was wrong with Steve? And his crossword puzzle was in dire need of much needed attention.

If only he could concentrate.

Tossing aside the book, House started to dial the lab. A moment later he hung up the receiver. To hell with it, he was going to the lab and find out what was taking so long. Grabbing his cane, he started out the door only to run into Cameron. Instinctively, he reached out to steady her.

"You should honk first to let someone know you're coming."

Breathless, Cameron held his gaze until his blue eyes caused her to look away first.

"I take it you have the results?"

Cameron smiled. "Yes. The good news is that we can rule out all the dangerous diseases."

"So what is the bad news?"

"What makes you think it's bad news?"

"Because if it was good, you would have started with what was ailing him instead of telling me what it isn't."

"He has tapeworms."

"And?"

"Well, it isn't fatal. He will need systemic antibiotics. We caught it early, and the survival rate is very good. Anyway, I can start him on the medicine, and as long as you watch him, he should fully recover. I mean, he lives with a doctor." Cameron walked over to the desk and started to write a prescription.

"I want you."

Cameron spun around to find House a mere 5 feet away. "Excuse me?"

"Let me rephrase that statement: I want you to take care of Steve."

"I'm not a veterinarian."

"No, you're an immunologist with an extensive knowledge of medicine and rats. Can you think of anyone more qualified?"

Cameron tried to laugh it off. "You couldn't afford me; I charge too much."

"I'm buying lunch."

"Oh my fees include more than lunch."

"Really?" House moved in, his eyes locking with hers. Cameron backed up and collided with the desk. House moved closer. Cameron gripped the desktop with one hand while her other hand used the file folder as a shield.

House's eyes sparkled with mischief and something else. "Name your price."

Cameron couldn't think. "I-I-" Just at that moment her beeper went off. House stepped back while she checked the screen.

"I have to go. Needed down in the lab." Cameron handed him the folder and the script. It was all she could do not to run from the room.

No promise to catch him later.

House opened the folder and perused the file. Everything Cameron said was verified by the lab report. He let out a sigh of gratitude. Steve was going to live.

Laying the folder down, House sat on the corner and ran a hand over his face. He knew just how to convince Allison Cameron to take care of Steve.

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

The day was over.

Cameron started packing her laptop and gathering her briefcase. A breakthrough for a deadly disease causing bacteria had been discovered, and she had had the opportunity of delivering good news to a distressed family. It had done her heart good to know that within a few days a little girl was going home to her family in good health.

Now all Cameron wanted to do was go home, take a long hot shower, drink a glass of wine, and slip on a pair of bunny slippers.

Cameron laughed to herself and amended her last thought. No bunny slippers in Allison Cameron's closet, but she did have a good pair of wool socks. Then again, after a day like today, maybe she did owe herself a present.

Picking up the backpack, her stomach suddenly growled and Cameron checked her watch. Six o'clock. The bunny slippers would have to wait.

Briskly she walked to the elevator and pushed the down button.

Suddenly the doors opened and a familiar voice brought her around. "Leaving already?"

Inwardly she groaned. House. "It's six. I had a medical breakthrough. Why are **YOU** still here? Are you hiding from Cuddy?"

"I heard about the kid. Good job."

"Thanks."

"But your day isn't finished; you have one more patient."

"House, I'll locate a good veterinarian and give him Steve's file. I can't take care of your rat."

The doors started to close. House pushed them back and pressed the button. "Are you coming in?"

"No. I mean yes. I'll wait for the next one."

"Doctor Cameron get on the lift. That is an order."

Cameron stepped forward. House pushed a button. Silence invaded the small space.

"If you don't want to care for Steve, I understand, but you do need to fulfill your obligation. I offered to buy you lunch and you ran out on me."

"I didn't run; I had an emergency."

"Okay. Emergency over and done. Have dinner with me."

Cameron stepped back. "No."

"I know I said lunch, but it's too late--well, unless we were in Hawai'i--anyway, you haven't eaten and I owe you."

Cameron sighed. _This is a bad idea,_ she thought to herself. "Okay. I'll follow you to your place and we take my car."

"See you in one hour." House exited the elevator with Cameron following closely behind.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter four includes a touching moment between Cam and Wilson. And House surprises Cam with an incentive. Not my best chapter, but bear with me, it will get better. Once again, I do not own House. This story is a product of my imagination.  
**_

Cameron pulled the comforter up to her chin. A moment later she kicked it to the end of the bed. Restless, she sat up, fluffed her pillow, and tried to get comfortable.

She counted sheep, and when that didn't work, tried listing infectious diseases in alphabetical order. It was no use. Insomnia was her best friend tonight and needed company.

Sighing, she gave up and went to the kitchen. Grabbing a glass, she filled it with ice cubes, followed by a healthy splash of tea. Taking her drink into the living room, she sat down on her favourite chair.

"Damn him!" she muttered in frustration, and wondered, for the millionth time, how she had gotten in so deep. "Why can't he just take NO for an answer?"

The VCR supplied the only light as Cameron sipped her tea in silence and replayed the evening for the hundredth time.

Cameron had made her point very clear over dinner. She cited fraternization. She even brought up Cuddy. She had made her argument. Or so she thought.

House, of course, had the last word.

_"Steve wanted me to give you this." He handed her the envelope, all the while never taking his eyes off her face._

_Nervously, Cameron opened the packet. Obviously taken aback, she pulled out a ticket and pass. "Grave-Digger?" Her tone was surprise and weariness._

_"Since Steve is under the weather and won't be able to attend, he gave me his ticket. I figured you enjoyed the last one."_

_Cameron fingered the pass. Her heart caught in her throat. "Why not ask Wilson?"_

_House, not sure what to do with his hands, began cutting his steak. "Wilson isn't helping Steve."_

_"He is your friend."_

_House poured a little more steak sauce on his plate. "Who stood me up last time. No way will I give him a chance to dash my hopes again."_

_Cameron sighed. "Why are you doing this?"_

_"Why aren't you eating?"_

_"You think this will convince me to take care of Steve?"_

_House's eyebrow curved upward. "Has it?"_

_"You're trying to manipulate me."_

_House grimaced. "Manipulate is such a strong word. Convincing is...much more appropriate."_

_Cameron placed the items back in the envelope. "Could I have a day to think about this?"_

_"Steve's life could be in jeopardy."_

_"Okay, here is the deal; you give me a day to think about this, or you contact a vet."_

Of course House agreed, Cameron thought mirthlessly. He had no choice. Still he held all the cards and knew that she couldn't let an animal die---much less a rat.

Finishing her drink, Cameron looked at the clock. 5:30 am. She sighed. Only a half hour before she usually woke up. She took her glass to the kitchen, and then headed to the bathroom for a quick shower.

The shower did nothing to help her decision. She had to give House an answer.

Dressing quickly, Cameron filled her coffee travel mug, grabbed her purse and keys, and left for work.

By the time she pulled up to PPTH, Cameron desperately needed someone to talk to. And who would know House better than Wilson? Glancing at her watch, she noticed that it was only seven-thirty. She could only hope he was in this early.

Knocking on the door, she waited until she heard: "Come in." Cautiously she turned the handle and entered.

"Dr. Cameron!" Wilson's tone was full of surprise and wonder. "Ah, good morning." He stood up to greet her. "Have a seat."

Cameron sat on the chair opposite Wilson's desk. Realising that her hands were shaking and the covering was leather, she placed her mug on the desktop.

"I need someone to talk to."

Wilson sat back down. "I'll do my best. Is this about a patient?"

"It's about House."

Wilson let out a deep breath and shifted his weight. "Uh, Cameron, I have to let you know that I am an oncologist, not a therapist."

Cameron gave a small chuckle. "At least we are in agreement that House needs therapy---minus the happy pills."

Wilson glanced at Cameron's mug. "Mind if I top that off for you?"

Cameron handed over the mug. "Go ahead."

"Sugar?"

"Yeah, thanks."

"Here."

Cameron took the mug and sipped the hot liquid cautiously. The beverage overwhelmed her taste buds and rejuvenated her energy. "Mmmm, this is good."

"Thanks."

An uncomfortable silence followed.

"What did House do?"

"It's not what House has done; it's what he wants to do."

Wilson eyed her with surprise.

"It has to do with Steve McQueen."

"His rat?" Wilson sat back down.

"House asked me to come over to help get a skin biopsy off of Steve. Since I have a knowledge of rats, I took it upon myself to diagnose Steve. And I think I took advantage of him."

"Steve?"

"House."

Intrigued, Wilson leaned back in his chair. "This I have to hear."

"After I checked out Steve, I threw House's jacket at him and forced him to go out to dinner. Yesterday, I got the biopsy results back. Steve has tapeworm. House offered to take me out to lunch. I was busy. He took me to dinner and tried to get me to take care of Steve. I told him that I could find a good vet. He won't hear it."

"And you told him---"

"I told him it would be unethical. He is my boss. House just won't take no for an answer."

"Can't or won't?"

"Both."

"Sounds like House. This surprises you?"

Cameron took a long sip of her coffee. "Not really. But last night really took the cake. Over dinner, House handed me this." Cameron pulled the envelope from her purse. Handing it to Wilson, she waited for his reaction.

"Grave-Digger." Wilson closed the envelope and handed it back. "I see."

"House says it's a down payment for taking care of Steve."

"And you said?"

"I would think about it." Cameron sighed. "That's all I've been doing. I've been up since four thirty."

Wilson stood up. "Let me get you some more coffee."

"I don't get it. He tells me he doesn't like me, then he tries like hell to get me to take care of Steve. When I think he might have a clue, he goes and does something that make it impossible for me to say no."

Wilson handed back Cameron's mug. "What's your plan?"

"How long should I make him sweat?"

"How soon should Steve start treatment?"

"Twenty-four hours."

"You have your answer."

Cameron handed the envelope back to Wilson. "You want my ticket and pass? I feel bad. You are his best friend."

"Nah, he doesn't want me to go; he likes me."

Cameron placed the envelope back in her purse, grabbed the mug, and stood up. Wilson did likewise.

"Thanks for the talk. See you later Wilson."

Wilson nodded. "Dr Cameron."

The door closed with a click.

Sitting down, Wilson leaned back and clasped his fingers behind his head. Letting his breath out in a long sigh, Wilson stared up at the ceiling. And then he smiled.


	5. Chapter 5

_**New chapter. Included in this is a conversation between House and Wilson. Once again, I do not own House. This is a product of my imagination.**_

With the blinds closed and the lights off, House was hiding in his office. One could argue he was ducking out of clinic duty---again. And he would be the first to agree. But nothing was as it appeared. Of course patient care was number one priority at PPTH---no doubt---but, if he had a choice between seeing patients all day, or getting a new high score---well that was pretty easy: games become obsolete after a few years; patients just become more annoying.

House wanted to say he was missing the coughing, whining, and complaining, except he had more important matters to attend to: his Game boy had been neglected for far too long.

Besides, he had to wait for Cameron to come to her senses. He had asked her on Wednesday; it was now Friday. He had given her space, and even went so far as not to approach her while she was on clinic duty. But he was chomping at the bit. He was a man of very little patience, and it was wearing thin.

His stomach growling brought him back to the present. Completing the level just became number one priority.

Well change that to _if _he had a chance to finish the level. At that moment, Wilson rushed in.

"Does Steve realise he has a rat for an owner?"

House concentrated on his game. "Cameron has the biggest mouth of anyone I know."

"Ha!" Wilson tossed a paper bag on the desk and grabbed a seat.

House glanced out of the corner of his eye. "What is that? A bribe?"

"Lunch."

"Semantics." House saved the game and opened the bag. He sniffed appreciatively. A Reuben. Boy was this his lucky week. Reaching in, he took out the sandwich, unwrapped it, and helped himself to a huge bite.

Wilson leveled his gaze at House. "Call it what you want. What do you call bribing a co-worker to care for your rat?"

Caught in the middle of chewing, House covered his mouth before replying. "Logical. Sensible. This is all for Steve."

"Really. When were you going to tell me that you went out with Cameron?"

House swallowed quickly. "The first time was against my will. I was high on vicodin."

"Then you took her to lunch." It wasn't a question. Wilson meant to catch House off guard.

"She couldn't make it, so I changed it to dinner."

"You gave her a ticket and VIP pass to Grave-Digger."

House took another bite. "They were Steve's. He can't go. Doctor says he shouldn't do anything too strenuous for a couple weeks. That includes driving, running on his wheel..."

"And Monster Trucks," Wilson concluded.

"Exactly. Since I figured you were busy that weekend, I chose someone else."

Silence prevailed for a few moments.

Wilson let out a short laugh and shook his head. "I can't believe you. I can't believe you are doing this. What are your intentions?"

House finished the last bite of his sandwich. "Hmmm, let's see. My intentions had been to... duck clinic duty, bum lunch off of you, and get a new high score on my game." House snapped his fingers. "Wait! I did duck clinic duty, you brought me lunch, and before your rudely interrupted me, I was getting a new high score."

Wilson sighed. "I meant with Cameron."

House stared unblinking into Wilson's eyes. "Nothing is happening. She is treating Steve, and this is payment for her services. It doesn't mean anything."

"This coming from the guy who says that everything has a reason?"

House balled up the garbage and tossed it into the wastebasket. "I shoot. I score. How sweet is that?" He leaned back in his chair. "I thought you wanted me to go out and have fun. I swear your exact words were 'Go out with friends. Get a pizza. Have fun.'"

Wilson jabbed a thumb at his own chest for emphasis. "I meant with me!"

House picked up a pencil and began twirling it. "How was I supposed to know?"

"I also meant for you to take it slow; not change over night and throw judgment out the window."

"Jimmy, I'm a lot of things but I'm not a mind reader."

Wilson leaned forward and rested his elbows on the arms of the chair. "I can think of one thing you are right at this moment."

House's eyes narrowed. "Oooo, jealousy." He leaned forward. "Now we're getting somewhere. Did you want to go? Should I ask Cameron for the ticket back?"

"No."

"Then why are you so upset that I am taking her to a monster truck rally?"

"This isn't about monster trucks, House. I thought you didn't like Cameron."

House cocked his head thoughtfully all the while still twirling the pencil. "She's a means to an end. My rat is ill. Cameron is an immunologist who knows rats."

Wilson whistled sharply. "All shapes and sizes."

House set the pencil down and glared at his friend. "I'm hoping that this conversation has a reason because it's not very meaningful."

Wilson stood up. "Meaning is irrelevant. You want the truth, here it is: I want you to be happy House. I-I know deep down inside there is a person begging to be brought out into the world who is dying to smile, and have fun, and live! The same person I knew before the infarction. Hell, someday I hope to see you genuinely smile from pure happiness, but I don't want to see you get hurt. And you will." Wilson spread his arms wide in a helpless gesture. "You're going out with a co-worker who has worshipped the ground you walk on since the day she was hired. You've dismissed her at every turn, now all of a sudden she is good enough to take to a monster truck rally. Yet you still consider her a means to an end. I don't understand."

House examined the intricate handle design of his cane. "There is nothing to understand."

"Do you understand that I care about both of you and I don't want to see either one of you get hurt?"

"Well that won't happen unless she wears that perfume again," House muttered under his breath.

Wilson blinked. "What does perfume have to do with this?"

House stood up and shoved his chair back. "Come on. Let's go."

Caught off guard, Wilson replied carefully, "Where?"

"I'm running down to the canteen. You brought me lunch and a semi-meaningful conversation, but you forgot my drink." House walked past Wilson to the door, his cane made a thump-thump on the carpet. "By the way, you are buying...unless you want to slip me some change."

Wilson sighed in defeat. He knew the conversation was over.

Walking out the door he could only hope that Cuddy didn't find out about House ducking out of clinic duty.

Sometimes luck isn't in the draw, it's in the stars. Cuddy was out of the office trying to solicit donors, so her thoughts centered on money, not House.

By the time five o'clock rolled around, House was out the door and heading toward a weekend of freedom. Well, maybe not freedom since he was going to have to start calling around for a good veterinarian. He had underestimated Cameron. It wasn't the first time he had tried to put faith into someone and have the results crash straight down on his head.

Hopping on the bike, he decided to take the long way home and try to clear his thoughts. By the time he pulled up to the apartment, the only things on his mind was that he had forgotten to pick up dinner and his leg hurt. Unlocking the front door, he threw his back pack on the chair, grabbed the phone and dialed the restaurant from memory.

Nine o'clock found House on the couch nursing a double, listening to music, and wishing he hadn't ordered the Kung Pao Chicken and Spring Rolls.

He quietly watched Steve.

Tapeworms. You could never tell by the little guy as he munched on his trail mix and dug around in the cage. Steve had the boundless energy of ten rats. But House knew better. He had seen kids come into the ER running at full speed, the parents at their wits end trying to calm down the noise, and one minute after entering the exam room, the child collapsed with a 102 fever and a rash. Animals were no different. That was the innocent joy of running on pure adrenaline.

Then it hit him: _Could _Steve die? What if Steve did die? Did he care? He tried to sort his feelings.

House shook his head clear. Steve was a rat. He couldn't even be considered a real pet. He had been a whim---a means to an end to prove that Stacy was lying. And she had. About everything. Who knew that a small compact bundle of fur, teeth, and potential disease carrier would be a moral compass?

_Just like Cameron._

House tried to steer his thoughts away from Cameron, but the memory of her holding Steve and tapping him on the nose flashed through his mind. A strange sensation entered his stomach.

Reaching over to the coffee table, House grabbed his vicodin bottle. Twirling the container around, he debated taking one. Or two. After opening the lid he remembered his vow of mixing drugs and alcohol. Releasing his breath, he started to pop the pills in his mouth just as the phone rang.

Glancing at the caller ID, he hit the call button and remained silent.

A small voice came over the line. "Yes." A short simple answer to a complicated question.

House remained silent.

"I have the medicine, and if it's all right with you, I'll be over at noon to start treating Steve."

"Bring lunch."

The line on the other end went dead. House listened to the dial tone for a couple seconds, then hit the end button. Placing the receiver on the coffee table, he focused his attention on Steve running on the wheel.

Looking down, he noticed he still held the two vicodin pills in his fist. Picking up the bottle, House put the pills back and replaced the lid.

Grabbing his cane, he hauled himself up and went into the bathroom. A few minutes later he emerged and changed into his pajamas.

Lying down between the sheets, with the light off, House stared at the ceiling until he fell asleep.

On the other side of town, Cameron placed the receiver on the charger and took her wine glass to the kitchen. Rinsing out the glass, she placed it in the drainer and turned off the light.

Heading toward the bedroom, Cameron detoured to quickly brush her teeth. A few minutes later she crawled between the sheets and turned off the reading lamp.

Lying on the bed, Cameron stared at the ceiling until she fell asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Can you believe the next chapter is finally up? I know, it's about time. Well, Cameron has arrived to take care of Steve (and House, of course). This chapter is extra long to make up for having you great people wait. All reviews are welcomed. Once again, I do NOT own House or Cameron---if I did, would I being doing this? Enjoy.**_

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cameron arrived at exactly twelve o'clock. Trying to balance her purse, the medical bag, and the take out containers, she reached for the doorbell with her elbow. Suddenly the door swung open.

"Need some help?" a gruff voice greeted her.

"You can take the food or the---" Cameron's words faded as House took the take out containers and disappeared into the apartment, "medical bag," she murmured and followed behind. Closing the door, she walked over to Steve's cage and placed her bags on the end table.

Cameron bent down and tapped on the bars. "Hello Steve. How are you today?" A little gray head popped out of the toilet paper cubby. Quickly he rushed over, his whiskers twitching. Standing on his haunches, he sniffed Cameron's finger tip.

"Aren't you sweet," Cameron crooned. "Too bad your dad can't learn something from you," she whispered as he nibbled on her index finger.

"If you're finished flirting with Steve maybe you can come in here and make yourself useful," House called out. Sighing, she straightened up and glanced toward the kitchen.

Coming up behind him, Cameron grabbed the soap and quickly washed her hands. "What do you want me to do?"

House held out the two containers. "Which one is yours?"

"The one with the pickles, of course." Cameron took the Styrofoam box and walked into the living room.

"Figures."

"I had to guarantee that you wouldn't steal my food."

House nodded in approval. "I knew there was a reason I hired you."

Cameron frowned. "I thought it was because I was extremely pretty."

House smirked and his blue eyes flashed brightly. "I had to say something. You would never have believed me if I said I hired you for your brains."

"Everybody lies." Cameron sat down on the couch.

House limped into the room. He stopped beside the couch. "You're on my side."

Cameron gathered her box and moved over. "Sorry."

House sat down with a plop. "Did you bring the ketchup?" Cameron stared at him. "Crippled, remember?"

Placing her lunch on the coffee table, she stood up and went into the kitchen. "Don't forget my drink." House opened his box and began eating.

A few moments later returned with the ketchup and drinks. Opening the can, she handed House his beverage and sat down . Silently they began eating.

"This is good." House complimented and took another bite of his burger. "Hand me the remote." Cameron pass it over and he flicked it toward the TV. "You like soap operas?"

"Uh, sure. Why?"

"There is a General Hospital marathon on Soap Net."

"You're not going to subject me to 'The L Word'?" Cameron inquired as she popped a fry in her mouth.

"Why should I subject you to something you will never put to use?"

"On the other hand, who is to say that watching it wouldn't help improve my technique?"

Throwing her an indescribable look, House flicked the remote toward the set. The strains of the saxophone intro filled the room.

For the next hour Cameron was caught up in the mysterious underworld of doctors and mobsters. She tried to follow the story line, but found herself lost. During a commercial she gathered the trash and went into the kitchen. Grabbing two more sodas, she made her way back just in time to catch a shoot out. Holding her breath, she stole a glance House's way. He stared intently at the screen, his eyes barely blinking.

As the closing credits rolled on the screen, Cameron released her breath. She felt House's stare.

"What?" She tried to quell the butterflies in her stomach.

"What did you think of the show?"

"I'm confused; in the whole hour I didn't see the hospital once."

An insulting remark found it's way to the tip of his tongue when Cameron defused the situation. "Let's get to work on Steve."

"But there are four more episodes."

"If we hurry, we can still catch them." House grabbed his cane and hoisted himself up.

Opening her medical bag Cameron took out two pairs of gloves and handed one set to House. Donning the other, she unlatched the cage and grabbed Steve around the rib cage. Thrusting the small creature toward House, she then began setting up the medicine. Measuring the antibiotics, she filled the syringes.

"Okay, now I'm going to need you to hold him the way you saw me do it the other day. Put your fingers under his forearms and use your second hand to secure his bottom. Make sure he doesn't move his head."

Awkwardly, House tried to comply. Holding the animal still, he watched as Cameron pried Steve's mouth open and deposited the contents of the first syringe. Steve tried to squirm free.

"Hold him still," Cameron commanded. Taken by surprise by her tone, House was both impressed and angered. Still he obeyed by adjusting his grip as Steve strived harder to free himself.

"I'm hurting him."

"You're doing nothing of the sort. He has two more doses, and I don't plan on wearing them nor do I want to get bit. Now hold his head still." Cameron tried to pry Steve's mouth open. "Come on sweetie. Do it for me." Squirting the syringe empty, Steve tried to spit, but Cameron held his mouth closed until he swallowed.

She stroked his grey head. "I'm sorry. I know it tastes bad. This one is much better. Just one more. Come on. If you do this, I'll give you a fry." Before House could blink, the syringe was empty and Cameron was taking off her gloves. "You can put him back in the cage."

House returned Steve and secured the latch. Cameron disappeared into the kitchen. He heard water running. A second later she emerged holding a fry. Bending over she tried to enticed Steve. Warily he approached her, his nose sniffing the air. With deserved apprehension, he looked at Cameron and then at the fry. Quickly he grabbed the treat and raced to the other side of the cage. House went to wash his hands

Upon re-entering the front room, he found Cameron standing beside the cage smiling. A weird feeling started in the pit of his stomach and the urge to drown in her smile overwhelmed him.

Realizing she wasn't alone, Cameron straightened up. Looking over her shoulder, she threw him a look. For a moment their eyes locked.

"Let's go finish watching the marathon," he announced gruffly. He lowered himself onto the cushion. "No more smart remarks."

Cameron threw him a sly smile. "I medicated your rat, so that entitles me to a smart remark or two."

"You've already had it."

Cameron sat down beside him. "Three doses, three smart remarks."

"You're kidding!"

"I could throw in that I brought lunch and that would entitle me to five smart remarks."

"Okay, okay. Three it is." He turned the volume up. Cameron chuckled softly.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Six P.M. Cameron looked at her watch. "Wow! It's getting late. I guess I'd better get going." Standing up, she stretched her stiff muscles. Throwing a glance Steve's way, she noticed he was fast asleep in his cubby.

"What time is it?" House muttered half asleep.

"A little bit past six. As much as I would like to stay and keep you company, I still have errands to get done, and some shopping to do."

"It's Saturday. Couldn't it wait until tomorrow?"

Cameron stopped in mid stretch. A puzzled smile marred her delicate features. "Is that an invitation to spend the night?"

A wicked glint shone in his eyes. "And if it was?"

"Depends upon who's asking."

"Me?" House pushed himself up from the couch and made his way over to the cage.

"Sorry. I would have said yes if Steve had asked." She walked over to the lamp table and picked up her purse and medical bag. Securing the snaps, she made her way to the front door.

"Is there anything I should look for?"

"What do you mean?" Cameron stopped and turned around.

"Well, like reactions---what if he is to have one due to the medicine?"

Cameron glanced at the sleeping rat. "If he was going to have anything, it would have happened by now."

"Are you sure? I don't want to have to file a medical malpractice suit against you on behalf of Steve."

Cameron took a couple steps forward. "If I didn't know any better, I would say that you are actually concerned for Steve. But since I know that you don't care about anyone or anything, I'm assuming that you are inquiring for safety's sake." Shifting her purse higher on her shoulder, Cameron looked straight at House and held his gaze. "Sometimes the medication can make rats a little hyper, so should he get out of the cage in the middle of the night and raid the fridge, or start swinging from the ceiling fan, then I suggest you give him a vicodin. But I have a feeling he is going to sleep very well."

Leaving him speechless, Cameron once again began walking toward the door. Swinging it open, she looked back at House. "See you tomorrow. Bye Steve." The door closed with a click.

House walked over to the cage. "Alright, it looks as though I'm going to have to draw the line somewhere: no vicodin. I'll share Cameron, to a point, but paws off the meds."

A soft sigh was Steve's only answer.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cameron turned the page of the magazine in her lap and rubbed her eyes. Five more minutes and she promised to call it a night.

Suddenly the phone rang. Jolted upright, Cameron placed a hand over her heart and tried to steady her breathing. She glanced at the clock, five past ten, and grabbed the receiver.

"Hello?" she greeted warily.

"He still seems to be fine."

Cameron froze still. "House?"

"Depends, is this Dr Cameron?"

"Yes."

"Then it's House."

Dragging a hand thru her hair, she tried to keep her anger in check. "House, it's ten o'clock. Why aren't you in bed?"

"Waiting for The O.C. to come on."

"So while you wait, you decided to call me."

"I tried to call Wilson, but I think he turned off his phone."

"I can't imagine why." Cameron yawned. "I don't blame him." Closing the magazine, she moved it to the night stand. "How is Steve?"

"Sleeping. Are you sure he's supposed to be doing that?"

"It's the medicine; remember, he is healing. Within the week he should be back to his old self."

"I'm used to him running on his wheel at night; how am I supposed to sleep in a quiet apartment?"

"Turn on some music. Drink a beer. Hire a hooker."

"Ouch! Are you suggesting I mix alcohol with pain medication?"

"Whatever works, I suppose."

"Some nice bedside manner you have there."

"I agreed to take care of Steve. I don't recall you being part of that equation."

"What if I want to be?"

"Be what?" Cameron tried to fight off the fogginess invading her brain.

"Part of the equation---two patients for the price of one?"

Cameron's heart picked up its pace. _Don't get your hopes up_, she warned herself. "Uh-uh. One ticket, one patient. Besides, I'm a doctor, not a miracle worker."

Silence prevailed for a few moments.

"So what were you doing before I called?"

"What makes you think I was doing something?"

"Lucky guess. Tell me it involved using batteries. Preferably C type."

"You wish. I was reading."

"The Kama Sutra?"

"Why acquire knowledge I'll never put to use?"

"Touché."

"I'm reading a Soap Opera Digest. I figure if I am going to be subjected to General Hospital, I may as well know something about it."

"Anything interesting?"

"I have the synopsis for next week."

"Well, don't keep it all to yourself, what does it say?"

"Uh-uh."

"Dr Cameron."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"If I tell you, then you will have to do your clinic hours because you'll have no reason to watch TV."

"Just when I decided I hated your martyr complex, you find a way to impress me."

Cameron smoothed the covers down and removed her reading glasses. "How is saving your ass part of my martyr's complex?"

"Not sure, but it does come in handy from time to time."

"Glad to know I can help you thwart Cuddy." Catching herself yawning, Cameron tried desperately to stay awake. "I really need to get to sleep."

"You'll be over tomorrow?"

"Noon. Tell Steve not to do anything too strenuous before then. See you in the morning House."

"Good-bye Cameron." A soft click and then dial tone. House replaced the receiver.

Cameron's last thought was to turn out the lamp and then the sweet blissfulness of sleep enveloped her.


	7. Chapter 7

_**First, let me thank everyone for their wonderful reviews. You touched my heart. The long awaited Seventh Chapter is finally up. This chapter is going a little off subject, but it will come full circle. Kylie's medical situation IS real and based on my recent medical problems. See if you can figure out what is wrong before the ducklings. Once again, I do not own House or Cameron. This chapter is longer than most. Enjoy. Please feel free to leave a review.**_

Monday morning found Cameron the first arrival to the Diagnostics Office. Standing beside the counter, she waited for the coffee to brew and let her thoughts wander.

Sunday had been a photocopy of the day before, except Steve was a bit more cooperative taking his medicine. Cameron hadn't brought lunch this time around, but House had surprised her by ordering pizza. Munching on the treat, House tried to get her to reveal the upcoming General Hospital episodes. Standing firm, Cameron maintained her silence. The afternoon ended with an episode of The OC and an uncomfortable silence that spoke volumes. Driving home that evening, Cameron tried to fit the puzzle called House together, but always, she came up a few pieces short. And once again, her dreams were tormented.

The smell of coffee slowly brought her back to reality. Opening the cupboard she retrieved the creamer and her gaze fell on House's red coffee cup. Setting aside the container, she touched the cup. Remembering the lightening like sensation that burned her finger tips when she accidentally brushed against House's hand when giving Steve his meds, Cameron took the cup down and held it.

_This is the side he drinks from,_ she thought and then immediately chided herself. _Good grief, I'm acting like a teenager with a crush. What am I doing? I can't believe I'm thinking about him. This is ridiculous. Put the cup back now Cameron before someone sees---_

"Morning Cameron," Foreman greeted, pulling her out of her reverie. "Coffee done?" He walked over and opened the cupboard to retrieve his cup. Glancing down at Cameron's hands, he raised his eyebrow in mock surprise. "Don't tell me you plan on using the boss's cup for your morning coffee."

"What?" Glancing down, she realized she was still holding the red mug. She shook her head clear. "I'm sorry. Guess I grabbed the wrong cup. I didn't sleep well last night. " Giving a short laugh she replaced the mug and grabbed her own.

Foreman studied her face closely. "You do look a little peaked. You feeling alright?"

"Neighbors were having a party that went on into the hours. Guess they wanted to make us all feel as though we were there one way or another." Cameron tried to steady her hand as she poured coffee into the mugs. "I think I'd better start on another pot."

"Okay." Foreman added creamer to his hot liquid and walked back to the table. Sitting down he opened the paper and began reading.

Cameron started scooping coffee grounds into another filter.

"How's the rat?"

Caught off guard, Cameron missed the filter. "Rat?" Coffee grounds landed on the counter. Letting out a heavy sigh, she grabbed a paper towel and ran it under the tap. She tried to make her tone nonchalant as she swept the fallen grounds into her cupped palm, but her heart was racing. "You mean Steve McQueen?"

"No, I mean Gregory House." Foreman waited for her reaction. Not getting one, he chuckled. "Of course I meant Steve. Rumour going around that you are treating him." He turned the news page and shook it straight.

Depositing the grounds in the trash bin, Cameron turned around to face Foreman. "Didn't your mother tell you believe half of what you see and some of none of what you hear?"

"Actually, Marvin Gaye said that, but when it comes to House, I tend to believe there is truth to most anything and everything that involves him."

"And if I said I wasn't?"

"I'll lose fifty bucks."

Cameron blinked hard. "You _bet_ on me?"

Foreman snorted and took a sip of his coffee. "Don't get all defensive; I'm just trying to win back the fifty I lost last week."

"What is Chase's take?"

"He thinks the only rat you would treat is House."

"And you?"

Foreman sighed. "Although I am not keen on rodents, I have a soft spot for him. That rat helped save my life."

Cameron tone softened. "I doubt Steve had anything to do with that."

"Hey, if he had gotten sick, I would have been misdiagnosed…." his voice trailed off. "But he didn't and it forced House to go back to the cop's apartment."

For a brief moment silence permeated the small space. Cameron felt the need to reach out to Foreman, but stopped. Throwing a look over the edge of her mug, she flashed a small smile. "Tell Chase he owes you fifty bucks."

Foreman raised his eyebrow, chuckled, and went back to his crossword puzzle. Cameron went back to making the coffee and arranging the counter.

House arrived a few minutes later.

"Unless I failed math, there should be three of you."

"Chase hasn't arrived."

At that moment Chase raced thru the door. "Sorry. Busted water line detoured traffic."

"Take a seat." House handed out the file folders. "36 year old woman with no history of medical problems was admitted last night with severely swollen feet." Turning to the white board, he started listing symptoms. "Diagnosis?"

"Diabetes," Chase threw out.

"The blood work came back normal," Foreman stated matter of fact.

"He said 'diagnose'," Chase retorted, "Any history of cardio problems?"

All three perused their files.

"Nope. Except for gall bladder surgery a few years back, a complete bill of health until a few days ago." House wrote as he spoke. "Swollen feet, migraines, double vision in each eye, light sensitivity…"

"Any history of trauma?"

"There was a car accident around the same time as the gall bladder surgery. Some brain trauma. The result was a TIA. No lasting effects," Cameron offered, never taking her eyes off the folder.

"A TIA would explain the light sensitivity and double vision," Chase offered.

"But a TIA wouldn't explain the swollen feet," Foreman countered.

House snapped the lid back on the marker. "Cameron, go talk to the patient. Find out more about what is happening. See if you can get her to divulge her daily routine." Cameron closed her folder. "Chase, I need you to start blood work. Foreman, come with me." Everyone got up from the table. "Any questions?"

Foreman turned to Chase. "Can I have my fifty?" Chase threw a look at Cameron and then House before he extracted a bill from his wallet. Handing it over, he sighed and left the room. Foreman gave a wink to Cameron and followed Chase.

Walking together to the office entrance, House looked at his protégé.

"What was that all about?"

"Chase found out the rat I'm working on is named Steve not Greg."

House stopped walking. Cameron continued on her way.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cameron noticed the patient had a pillow over her face as she walked into the room.

"Are you okay?" Concern was in Cameron's tone.

"Not really," the voice greeted from beneath the pillow.

"Anything I can do?"

"Could you close the blinds? I rang for a nurse over an hour ago and they said they would be right in. I guess they got busy."

Cameron pulled the blinds closed. Instantly the room went dark. "Is that better?"

"Thanks." The patient removed the pillow and attempted to place it behind her back. Cameron helped. "That's much better."

Pulling up a chair, Cameron poised her pen, ready to write. "Miss Braken--"

"Kylie."

"Kylie. When was the first time you noticed something was wrong?"

"About three weeks ago I stubbed my toe on a shopping cart. It hurt for a couple days, and then it began to bruise."

"Did you see a doctor?" Cameron began writing in the patient's folder.

"I just got laid off. I thought maybe it had something to do with stress, or that I had been on my feet none stop for eleven days in a row."

Cameron smiled gently. "Couldn't have helped. What is your diet like?"

"I had been hoping to find another job, but with my feet the way they are, well, money is tight and Ramen Noodles are cheap," Kylie tried to make light of the situation.

"All that salt isn't good."

"I know. I drink plenty of water. It's weird, but when I drink, I swear I can feel the water rush to my feet. Is that normal? I also can't stand or sit for long periods of time, so I'm lying down with my feet propped up. I'd say I am prone 20 hours out of the day. I can barely walk to the bathroom."

"Anything else?"

"My feet go numb, and it takes about ninety minutes to get the blood flowing. When it does, it hurts. A lot. I can't explain the pain. If you hang around you might get to see it."

"On a level of one to ten, how would you describe it?"

"I think I have managed twenty hours of sleep over three weeks. Does that count?"

Cameron looked Kylie in the eye and nodded. "Could I see your feet?" Cameron placed the folder on the nightstand.

"Sure."

Cameron pulled the sheet down to reveal very swollen feet. The middle toe was a bright red. The first toe had a discolored nail. Cameron squeezed the digit. "Does it hurt?"

"Does what hurt?"

"Your big toe. When I do this, does it hurt?"

"I don't feel you doing anything."

"I'm squeezing it."

"Nothing. Is that right? Am I supposed to feel nothing?" Fear laced Kylie's tone.

Cameron placed the sheet back over Kylie's feet. "I need to consult with Dr. House. I wouldn't worry about it." She flashed her patient a comforting smile. "Try to get some rest. I'll be back."

Kylie sighed. "Okay. Take your time, I'm not going anywhere." Grabbing the remote, she turned on the TV.

Cameron grabbed the folder and departed the room.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"She couldn't feel me squeezing her toe. I think there is something seriously wrong."

"Broken toe. Could have lead to some nerve damage," Chase offered.

"You feel a broken toe for days. It doesn't go numb. It also shouldn't take forty five minutes to get blood flowing back into one's extremities."

"She eats a ton of salt."

Cameron flashed a look at Foreman. "She eats Ramen Noodles and drinks water. She can barely walk so she keeps her feet elevated. I don't think this is caused by salt."

"Well, it can't help."

"She's unemployed and can't get benefits if she's incapacitated. What do you suggest she eat?"

Chase made a snorting sound. "It's obvious she isn't taking care of herself. Have you seen her? She must weigh 250."

"I don't think her diet is the culprit." Cameron buried her face in her hands for a moment and ran her fingers thru her hair. "There has to be an underlying cause."

House paused while writing on the board. "Hmm, it could be Lupus."

"It's not Lupus," Cameron shot back.

House raised an eyebrow. "Really? What is _your_ diagnosis then?"

"Vasculitis. It explains almost everything."

"But not _everything_. Okay, Chase, get me the reports back from the blood work. Foreman and Cameron, I want you to do an MRI of her brain to make sure that theTIA didn't affect anything else. Also, do an ultrasound of her feet, and an Echo of her heart. After that, start her on Heparin and a no salt diet."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"No cancer. No STDs. Diabetes, Echo, MRI, and Behcette's, are all negative. Her hormones are a little high, but a negative on pregnancy." Chase closed the file.

"Doesn't mean she wasn't pregnant," House replied.

"Are you saying that she was pregnant and lied about it?" Cameron sputtered.

"She could have had a miscarriage and put it out of her mind."

"She would have told me," Cameron said, and faced Chase. At that moment all three beepers went off. Glancing down, they closed their folders and rushed out of the office to Kylie's room.

Upon entering they noticed two nurses trying to hold the woman down.

"Make it stop!" Kylie screamed. "God it hurts so much! Make it stop!"

Cameron stood beside the bed. "Kylie, what is wrong?"

"My feet. Please. The pain. Oh God!" And then she screamed. Chase and Foreman stood back in shock. Instantly Cameron grabbed the hypodermic from the nurse and injected it into Kylie's arm. Almost immediately the screaming stopped and the woman slowly lapsed into unconsciousness.

Straightening up, Cameron deposited the hypodermic into the sharps bin. Turning around, she caught sight of House in the doorway.

"The three of you. In my office. Now." Turning, House limped down the hallway. The ducklings trailed behind. Cameron flashed a look at Chase and Foreman but the walk was completed in silence.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cameron took Steve and held him to her ear. "Your breathing is still good. It looks like the medicine is finally kicking in." Placing him in the cage, Steve ran over to his wheel. Within seconds a soft squeaking noise filled the quiet room.

Taking off her gloves, Cameron walked to the kitchen, deposited them in the waste can, and began washing her hands.

"He's taking the medicine easier than Saturday." House's voice startled Cameron. Keeping the water on, she shook the excess off her hands and reached for a towel. House moved to the sink.

"I think he's realized that it's a losing battle and it's better to surrender than to put up a fight." House finished washing and turned off the spigot.

"Smart rat." Cameron handed him a towel.

"You're angry." House prided himself in being observant.

"No I'm not."

"I think I can tell when you're angry."

"I don't want to talk about it. I'm off duty." Cameron walked into the living room. House followed, his cane making a soft thump on the polished wood floor.

"What do you think is wrong with her?"

Cameron paused putting the items back in her medical bag. "Honestly?" Taking a deep breath she let it out in a huge sigh. "I don't know. What I do know is that what I saw today is not normal. I have racked my brain for hours trying to figure out what could be wrong, but nothing seems to fit."

"Her problems could be stress related."

"I've thought about that, but it doesn't fit."

"You realise that if we can't find anything by Wednesday, we will have to release her."

"I know." Cameron's shoulders slumped.

"You're not happy about that."

"My feelings are neither here nor there. My concern is my patient." Cameron reached for her purse.

"I know," House replied softly.

Tugging the strap over her shoulder, Cameron grabbed her medical bag. "I have to go."

"I was ordering Chinese tonight. I usually have an extra spring roll left over. You can help yourself to it." That was the closest House could let himself get to saying, _Please don't go. I need you to stay. You need to stay. _

"Thanks, but I don't have much of an appetite." Opening the door, Cameron paused. "I'll see you tomorrow morning." The door clicked closed behind her.

Walking over to the piano, House sat down and began playing. He played all night.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Well, Steve is going to live. Even I didn't have the heart to off the little guy and further wound House. Kylie is sent home in "good" health. Cameron finds out a secret about House, while he torments Wilson---again.**_

Thursday morning.

Cameron walked into Kylie's room. "Good morning."

"Hi, Doctor Cameron. So what is the verdict?" Kylie lowered the volume on the TV.

Cameron sat in the chair beside the bed. "Honestly? We couldn't find anything wrong. We have run every test possible. It's all negative."

Kylie's eyebrows furrowed. "So that means what?"

"We are going to have to release you."

"But I'm ill. There is something wrong with my body. I know there is. I know you look at me and think 'Oh, she's fat; she doesn't take care of herself, so she doesn't know anything', Kylie replied. She rushed on before Cameron could respond. "But you're wrong. I haven't always looked like this. I swear. I eat one candy bar and I gain five pounds. The doctors said the migraine meds might make me gain a little weight, but they didn't say it would be ninety pounds! Please, you have to find out what is wrong."

"I understand," Cameron comforted.

"Do you? Do you know why my feet are the way they are? Could I lose them if whatever this is doesn't go away?"

"We think the salt is making you retain water. That water is putting pressure on your circulatory system. When we release you, a nutritionist will meet and discuss a diet to help eliminate excess sodium. This should all be cleared up in a week or so."

"You think." Kylie's sigh caught on a sob. "You don't believe me. Nobody believes me. I don't lie about things being wrong with my body. I don't like being ill. I hate hospitals. Maybe you think I'm lying, but if I was, why wouldn't I be out looking for a job so I don't lose my house instead of lying around faking it?"

"No one is calling you a liar---"

Kylie stared Cameron in the eye. "I am having serious health issues and no one believes me."

"If there were any other tests we could run, we would. I wish there was something I could say." Cameron's words trailed off into an uncomfortable silence.

"Will I still be able to come back if the need arises?"

"Of course."

"Could I get you?"

"If you come back, have them personally page me." Cameron made a couple notes in the file. "I should have your release ready by noon. Do you have anyone who can come and pick you up?"

"I drove myself," Kylie's voiced quavered.

"If you have any questions, have the main desk contact me, okay?"

"Thank you, Doctor Cameron." Kylie ducked her head to hide the tears.

"It's going to be alright," Cameron assured the scared woman. Placing her pen back in her breast pocket, Cameron stood up. "I'll stop by with your paper work."

"Okay." Kylie refused to look at her.

Feeling guilty, Cameron closed the folder and left the room.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thursday afternoon. Walking inside the apartment, Cameron handed a manila folder to House.

"What is this?"

"Steve's test results. Thought you might want to know that the medicine was effective and he is going to live. I've given him a clean bill of health."

"Are you saying that he can start running on his wheel again? That I might get a decent night's sleep?" House didn't open the folder. Instead he stared at the tab titled "Steve McQueen" in bold black lettering. Relief and disappointment coursed thru him.

Cameron gave him a soft smile. "Oh, I wouldn't toss out the Budweiser and Monica's private number just yet, but yes, as soon as he feels up to it, the wheel will be lulling you into dreamland in no time."

"I knew he had it in him to pull thru." Opening the file, House glanced at the chart.

"You don't sound happy."

"I was going out of my mind figuring a way to explain to Cuddy why I would need a couple days off to attend the funeral of a rat."

"I don't think she would have bought it for a minute. She still would have made you do your clinic hours regardless."

House looked down at the grey bundle of fur, who was munching on his Trail Mix. "Don't ever give me a scare like that again or you'll find yourself living with Wilson's mutt."

Steve paused, then went back to his treat while keeping his eyes on Cameron.

"I'm not sure he fully trusts me yet."

"Do you blame him? You tortured the poor thing."

"Ha! You think what I did was torture? You have no idea what those tapeworms were doing to him."

"Unfortunately he can't see them; all he sees is you."

"True." Reaching down, she cautiously stuck her finger between the bars. "Do you forgive me?"

Dropping his treat, Steve ran over to Cameron. Sniffing first, he gently began to nibble on her fingertip.

"I'll take that as a yes."

House gave an impatient snort. "Well of course you're forgiven; you're a woman."

"Wow a sexist remark disguised as a compliment."

"Actually it wasn't supposed to be disguised as anything."

Bending over, Cameron chucked Steve under the chin. "Steve, I think you're dad is jealous."

"Jealous hell. I'm just trying to figure out why he gets all the attention."

Cameron continued to fawn over Steve. "'cause you're all cute, and furry, and sweet as can be." She gave Steve a wink and blew a kiss.

That earned another snort.

Straightening, Cameron threw a look at House. "I need to wash my hands." Turning on the spigot, she began lathering. Catching House out of the corner of her eye, she laughed.

House glared at her. "What's so funny?"

"You. Jealous of a rat."

"I doubt it. But he did have it made having you as his personal physician."

"I don't recall having much of a choice."

House leaned on his cane and gestured with his free hand. "We all have choices. How we choose to act upon them is a different story. I simply presented the problem and--"

"Tempted me with Monster Truck tickets," Cameron interjected and turned off the spigot.

"Threw in a incentive," he corrected. "I admit that I gave you a little push--"

"Shove!"

"In the right direction."

"Knowing I wouldn't say no."

"Couldn't, but let's not play semantics."

"You?" Cameron blinked hard. "Okay." Cameron grabbed a paper towel and furiously dried her hands. The silence seemed to go on.

"So, are we still on tomorrow night?" Cameron asked and tossed the paper in the waste can.

"Why wouldn't we be?"

"Well with Steve getting better, I thought maybe you might want to take him instead."

House raised his eyebrow. "Tempting. But so soon after recovery might throw him into a relapse. I can't afford Monster Truck tickets every time he gets ill. Maybe next time." Walking over to the fridge, House opened it and pulled out a beer. "Get you something?"

"A Coke. Please."

"Here." House tossed the can at her, closed the door, and headed toward the living room. "You coming?"

Cameron popped the top and took a long sip. Swallowing, she followed. House was already sitting on the couch. Glancing at him, she walked over to the piano bench.

"Something wrong with the couch?"

"Not really. Thought I might give you some space."

"There you go thinking again." House grabbed the remote. "You can sit beside me; I won't bite. Well, unless you want me to." His eyes twinkled with mischief.

Cameron walked over and sat down. "I prefer my rats to have four legs instead of two, thank you."

"Ouch. What exactly does Steve have that I don't?"

"Well…"Cameron took a thoughtful sip, "he is friendly, and he listens to me."

"I listen." He began flipping channels.

"He isn't afraid of getting close to someone."

"Ah the innocence of youth." House took a drink of beer.

"You don't listen to anyone."

"I listen, I just tune them out."

"Because you're _always_ right," she replied with thick sarcasm.

"I'm not _always_ right; everybody else is _usually_ wrong." Flicking the remote, House skimmed the channels. "A Benny Hill marathon. I haven't seen him in years."

"You like Benny Hill?" Cameron asked in surprise. It shouldn't have surprised her, but it did.

"Why wouldn't I? He's sarcastic, brilliant, witty, full of himself---"

"He's sort of like you only with a British accent," Cameron finished.

In response, House grabbed her can of Coke, took a long sip, and handed it back. She stared at him as he gave her a wink and then put a finger to his lips.

Silence fell over them as the show began.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So tonight is the big night." Wilson began stacking tomatoes, cheese and slices of turkey on a bread slice. "Date night."

"It's not a date." House grabbed a fry from the plate.

"Boy gives girl a ticket to Monster Trucks. Boy picks girl up after work. Sounds like a date to me." He spread the mayo on the slice of bread and turned it over on the sandwich waiting on his plate.

"You sound like a faithful husband to me."

"Did I hit a nerve? I wonder who is going to miss Cameron more now that Steve is better." Wilson laid the knife down and reached for a serviette.

Wordlessly, House reached over, grabbed the sandwich and took a huge bite.

"Hey!"

"Were you finished with this?" asked House as he tried to cover his mouth.

"I am now." Wilson wiped his hands. "You want my drink to go with that?"

"Thanks, but I'm good."

Wilson expelled an exasperated sigh. "I gotta get back to my office." Grabbing his drink, he pushed himself away from the table and stood up. Reaching over, he grabbed the plate of fries. "See you later."

"Thanks for lunch."

Wilson threw him a dirty look and walked off. Shrugging, House took another bite.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cameron locked the door behind her and skipped down the stairs. "Where are you parked?"

"Right here."

Blinking against the setting sun, Cameron thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. "We're taking _that_?"

House straddled the motorcycle. "Why not? It's safer than driving. Plus, with the weekend traffic, we can avoid the congestion. I don't think my leg can take all that inactivity." He started the engine.

Taking the helmet, Cameron placed it over her head. Jumping on the back, she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist.

Her fresh scent wrapped around him, and for a second he felt his knees go weak. Shaking his head, House raised the kickstand and they drove away.


End file.
